I don't know what my problem is.

Boy-Morgan gave me his suggested script changes on... let's see, I'm scrolling through my in-box here... Saturday, September 27th. And not only have I not started to input his changes, I've barely even looked over his suggestions. As both Boy-Morgan and I have mentioned before, these changes are piddling -- no lie, changing "floorboard" to "baseboard" is one of them. It'd probably take me, oh, an hour to blast through them and send the script back to him.

And yet...

I've been derailed a bit by outside influences. I spent the past weekend and the first part of this week battling a series of pernicious computer viruses (I clicked on something I shouldn't have, and it took me to a dark, dark place). My personal favorite virus hijacked my browser: whenever I'd use Google, it'd send me off on some merry chase 'round the internet instead of just taking me to my search results. It added a fun random factor to my browsing.

But really, that's just an excuse. Script momentum has sort of abandoned me at the moment (I have another screenplay I'm working on right now that has similarly stalled), and no amount of positive thinking or caffeine has been able to kick-start me into action. It'll come, I know... but it's frustrating that I can't seem to push through it naturally.

Anyhoo. The turtle in the top photo was making a mad dash for freedom from the koi pond in the Wilshire Courtyard (right). I don't know where he thought he was going, but he was moving at a surprisingly zippy rate across the grass, away from the lush sanctity of the pond, making a beeline for the hot asphalty danger of the nearby street. There's a script metaphor in there somewhere, but I can't quite puzzle it out.